


All the Other Ways

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-20
Updated: 2011-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-17 03:44:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things went unspoken for a good reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Other Ways

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains character death, but not Jack or Daniel.

_“Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.”   -- George Eliot_

 

There were days when time stretched endlessly. When seconds became minutes and minutes felt like hours. Days so hard that the end simply wasn’t in sight at any given point.

This was one of them.

The irony of it was that, in anybody’s book, it was a beautiful day. Early summer was breathing its gentle warmth across the California beach. The sky was an endless, clear blue and the breeze gently whipped up tiny wavelets that shushed rhythmically onto the sand.

It was a beautiful day to be saying goodbye.

Daniel breathed in the soft air and closed his eyes momentarily and tried to not to think. Memories that were usually gentle and happy were hard and unhappy today. So not thinking and just letting the day happen seemed to be the best way to get through it.

He listened as Mark spoke of the sister he’d known and then lost to her career, then found again after their father died. He spoke of an intelligent woman, highly respected in her field, adored by her niece and nephew, loved by him in that uniquely complicated way a brother loved a sister.

But he didn’t really talk of the Sam Daniel knew, or the Carter Jack ... Jack what? Loved? Admired? Cared about, more than he should? Daniel had heard. He’d logged it and acknowledged and waited but nothing was ever said, by either of them.

Some things were better left unsaid.

Standing together, across from him in the tight circle of friends and family, were Malcolm Barrett and Pete Shanahan. Daniel had no idea what Barrett was doing now. Possibly retired. He looked smart, composed and a little sad. Shanahan looked devastated. No other word for it.  Sam had that effect on people. Both men had loved her, and Shanahan had lost her before their relationship had really begun. Side by side, lost in their own thoughts, the men’s shared grief and sense of loss were tangible, all these years later.

Next to them, Cassie and Nyan stood quietly, arms around each other’s waists, Cassie carrying a single yellow rose. No longer strangers in a strange land, they made a strikingly handsome couple who exuded quiet devotion.  Cassie’s eyes were dry but her face pale. She was beautiful, so strong, in mind and spirit. Sam had done an amazing job of raising her.

It was a stark truth that Cassie, and Sam’s work, and, latterly, making sure her research work was published as far as was possible, had been Sam’s life. A few men came and went and Sam seemed relaxed about that. Daniel never met most of them. No one stayed.

“You should meet someone,” Daniel had said once, over dinner.

She’d smiled and said, “I’m content, Daniel. Really.”

And that was a close as they ever came to talking about the thing they never talked about. Daniel had nodded and the conversation moved on. It wasn’t until a long time later that he realized she hadn’t said she was happy.

It hurt to think of that today. He wished they’d talked.

Lt. Col Jennifer Hailey read a poem that Daniel didn’t recognize but spoke of honor and valor and duty.

Daniel let the words wash over him and watched a gull glide the air currents, swoop and rise and then fly off. He bit down the urge to interrupt the reading and say that honor, valor and duty were fine and noble, but that he rated love, friendship and happiness just as highly, and the first three had cost him, Sam, Jack and Teal’c too dearly in terms of the latter for way too long.

He squinted against the sun. His eyesight was deteriorating, as his doctor never seemed to tire of telling him, but he was in denial. He shifted a little from foot to foot, his right shoulder brushing Jack’s left. Jack gave him a sideways look. The man was used to standing militarily straight and still. Even now. It came back to him as easily as slipping on the uniform, which he’d done that morning.  Daniel wondered if Jack wanted to say goodbye to Sam officer to officer. Maybe that was how he could deal with this. Compartmentalize those feelings, separate the personal from the professional, just like he always did.

Jack looked amazing. Proud, tall, thoughtlessly elegant, even approaching 70. Daniel’s heart skipped faster, just for a moment. That he could still do that to him, even after all this time ... He took a second to marvel at that.

Then Mark was scattering the ashes in the ocean, and Cassie was throwing her rose, and Daniel thought he felt the sand shifting beneath his feet. Teal’c gone three years before, now Sam, lost to the disease that so nearly claimed her father, Hammond, Mitchell in a stupid, too meaningless for words, motorcycle accident.

People were hugging and crying, smiling sadly and saying all the right things.

Jack spoke to Mark, Daniel chatted to Cassie, who hugged both him and Jack tearfully before leaving for the restaurant and the lunch Mark had organized. Jack and Daniel had politely declined the invitation, citing inconvenient early flight times.

Truth was the small talk would have been too much for both of them. They didn’t do small talk these days. Jack had always hated it and Daniel just didn’t want to do it anymore.

As the small party walked towards the cars parked at the edge of the beach, Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to watch the sea. Daniel turned too, eyes scanning the horizon. Their shoulders touched again and this time Daniel made sure the contact was maintained. A couple of sailboats ducked and bobbed on the placid water.

“Think I’ll go fishing. At the lake. When we get home,” Jack said, eyes still on the water.

“Room for two in the boat?”

Jack half-turned towards him in surprise. “ _Now_ you want to go fishing?  After all these years?”

Daniel shrugged. “You only asked me once.”

“It was a pretty emphatic no. Like a lifetime no.”

Daniel delved into his jacket pocket for his sunglasses and put them on. “And now I’m saying yes.”

Jack sighed and gave Daniel the half-affectionate, half mildly-irritated “I’ll never understand you” look that Daniel had seen so many times down the years. Jack checked his watch. “We should get back to the hotel. Flight’s in three hours.”

Daniel nodded. “Okay.” He put a hand on Jack’s arm as he turned to walk up the beach. “Jack ...” Daniel felt the immediate tension through the layers of skin and material.

“I never did, Daniel. Not in the way you think. But in all the other ways ...” Jack’s eyes filled.

Daniel tightened his grip on Jack’s arm.

Some things went unspoken for a good reason.

Daniel moved his arm around Jack’s shoulder and side by side they walked across the sand.

It really was a beautiful day for saying goodbye.

ends


End file.
